Shadows
by evenstar131
Summary: When a close friend murders his wife, Harry can't help but find the man responsible and destory him mercilessly. OOC for some characters. Please Read and Review.


> > Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the Harry Potter characters, not me. I own only the plot. And the story that you read here I suppose. Considering it is me that's coming up with this story. On with it then, I suppose.  
  
By the way, this story id OOC for some characters.  
  
Shadows  
  
Harry had never noticed it before, but she had shadows in her eyes. Shadows as black as night, and shadows as clear as crystal, but still, they were shadows. Secrets. Histories he could never know. Pasts he could never see. He did not begrudge her that, though. She was a woman in her own right. She had a right to hide herself as she saw fit, whether it be a veil, or a spell, it was her prerogative.  
  
It still disconcerted him though, to have a woman he loved so distanced from him. But then, she was not distanced as such, just withdrawn at times, a feeling he well understood. A guilty expression stole across his tired face, as he realised that she had been speaking to him for the past five minutes, while he had gazed thoughtfully into her eyes.  
  
"I'm sorry, Luna, what were you saying?"  
  
"Nothing of importance Harry. Just mindless chit chat."  
  
The silence began to grow heavy, and Harry was suddenly struck by the poignancy of Luna's profile. Head held high, her eyes were staring, unfocused, at the leaping flames in the fireplace, and her lips were moving softly in the firelight, muttering words Harry could not hear. Her head was turned slightly away from him, the length of her neck exposed by her elegantly set hair. The chair she sat in was not one of the comfortable armchairs that littered the room, but a stiff old wooden framed chair, its seat cover patched and frayed with age. Her silk robes were a deep red, almost plum, and fitted her form loosely, flashing and shining dully in the light spreading from the grate.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Sorry?"  
  
"What is holding you so fascinated Harry dear?"  
  
"You," was the simple reply.  
  
The welcoming smile that suddenly lit up her face reminded Harry of why he had married this woman. She had been so vulnerable, and he had loved her for it. She had been frightened, and shaking and so seemingly, but delightfully, naïve when he had finally taken her into his arms and carried her from the carnage of the battle and into his life forever.  
  
She had been covered in dirt, had been at the worst she ever had, or would be, and he had still loved her. Her acceptance of him, and finally, her love of him had meant the end of it all for Harry. He had defeated Voldemort, he had fought his share of his followers, and he had found love. Retiring from his fight, he had settled into a steady job with the Ministry, and now had his lovely Luna and one glorious child he took everlasting delight in. Ginny was Harry's pride and Joy, but he still could not look upon her face without some sadness.  
  
Her namesake had died in the very battle the Harry and Luna had found each other. The man who had done it was dead, thanks to a duel effort on his and Ron's behalf, but Ginny had not made it. She had died in Ron's arms, Harry and Luna beside him, fighting their own physical battles of survival, and with Hermione unconscious at their side. When Gin had been born, Harry had already decided that if it were a girl, he would call it Ginny. She had been one of his greatest friends, and Luna had respected that. Besides, there would be more children to name. Luna had said she plans of that.  
  
What Harry didn't know, however, was that Luna was already pregnant with their second child. Smiling in quiet bliss, Luna absently stroked her stomach, where she knew a child was growing within her. A small smile passed across her face, before she remembered the trouble she had had with Ginny's birth. It had almost cost her her life. But she was determined. She loved Harry, and knew that he would want more than one child. And now she could give that to him.  
  
Somehow, and even Luna didn't know this, but somehow, she knew that the unborn life within her womb was a boy. And that he would look like his father. But as she stared into the flames roaring higher in the fireplace, Luna suddenly had a premonition of such evil, and such despair, that she couldn't think. It wasn't like a Trelawny prediction as such, just a feeling of abject agony and hatred. Knowing it was somehow connected with her child, Luna suddenly wrapped her arms tighter about herself as a small cry of surprise escaped her lips.  
  
Suddenly concerned, Harry jumped up, and ran to his wife, scared for some nameless reason.  
  
"Luna? Luna! Are you ok?"  
  
"Yes, yes," but her voice was too vague, yet forced, for him to be entirely convinced.  
  
Staring at her face, Harry heard a small creak behind him, and immediately his wand was out and his eyes were everywhere, his stance one of practiced and skilled understanding of battle. A shadow detached itself from the wall and moved into the light. Harry immediately relaxed.  
  
"Albus."  
  
A strange gleam was in Dumbledore's eyes as he stared almost without seeing at the couple in front of him.  
  
"Albus?"  
  
The man before Harry slowly raised his wand, a look of utter disregard spreading across his ancient features, and muttered something in a voice coated with a loathing so terrible that it filled the room. It was barely a whisper, but Harry heard it clearly, and could not react.  
  
"Avarda Kedavra."  
  
"Albus!"  
  
Luna's suddenly heavy body was lying across a sprawled Harry as the man Harry Potter thought he had known smiled a smile so dark and twisted that Harry was sure that it was not the man he had grown to love, disapparated with a smart 'crack'.  
  
"NO!"
>> 
>> * * *
>> 
>> The black cloth that covered the casket seemed to glow with the essence that had capitulated the woman it now covered. Harry stood with his friends, his daughter clutched at his hip, her face buried in his neck, hands twisted despairingly through his longish hair.  
  
"She was pregnant Harry."  
  
Eyes frozen in abject horror turned toward Hermione, and immediately she regretted telling him.  
  
"What?"  
  
The cold and yet calm anger that barely shook his voice held no promise of mercy. The shocked eyes that met Harry's were suddenly filmed in terror at the sudden change in the man before her.  
  
"Sh-she was pre-p-pregnant." Her voice seemed so small in the echoing chamber of Luna's mausoleum.  
  
Agony pierced Harry's heart as he stared at the woman before him, and saw compassion, and was it fear? Just as suddenly, an anger beyond hatred, beyond loathing, burst in his chest, and Harry found himself unable to hold his daughter any longer. Hermione took the child, and told her to wait outside of the chamber, with her Uncle Ron.  
  
Harry had fallen to his knees and his head was bowed, a despair and anger filling him like a cup of water, and overflowing, until his eyes watered, and fat tears leaked down his broken face. Hermione took his head against her stomach, and held him. It was all she could do.  
  
"He will die." The voice was a whisper in the darkness of the despair that enveloped them both, and all Hermione could do was let her own tears fall and watch their shadows on the wall mix with those of Harry's, and not silently in acceptance, if not understanding.  
  
She had no doubt of that.
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>> A.N. Ok, what did you guys think? Please read and review, and provide only constructive criticism if you're going to crticise. Don't flame me just because you don't like the story. I understand that you might not like it for indefinable reasons, but if that's the case, say so!


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